The Trouble With Eden - Lawrence Block [109]
“I don’t think so. I think I could handle them now, as far as that goes, but until he’s done with the book it’s a moot point.”
“So the question is whether or not you want to marry him. Not that you have to have the answer yet, not until you’re asked, but it’s still something you’d want to settle ahead of time in your own mind. As much as you can. Is the bed part good? Because it won’t be a good marriage if it isn’t, and it’s not something that gets better with time. Either it’s there from the beginning or it never comes around.”
“It’s good. He’s very good for me that way. Am I blushing?”
“Not that I can see.”
“I feel as though I am. No, that part is good.” Her mind filled suddenly with an image, a memory, Hugh touching her in a certain way and her own electric response, and now she knew she was blushing. “It’s fine,” she said. “Just fine.”
“Well, what are the other traditional tests? Would you use his toothbrush? That’s supposed to be an acid test, although I can’t see it myself. It strikes me as old-fashioned. Would you want to have his children?”
“If I wanted to have any children, which is something I’m not sure of either way. But if I did, yes, I’d want to have his.”
“Would you want your children to look like him?”
“Oh, definitely. He’s a very handsome, man. I like his looks. I’d certainly rather have my children look like him than like me.”
“Oh, Linda, that’s ridiculous. You’re a very attractive woman.”
“I’m not unattractive, I know that. And I don’t detest my own looks, but I’ve always felt I wouldn’t want to have children who look like me. Make of that what you will, good Dr. McIntyre.”
“Hmmm. Well, I make it that we ought to get the check and take a walk over the bridge, don’t you think? He’s picking you up at nine, and you’ll want time to get ready.”
The sky was starting to darken as they left the restaurant. The air was still warm but the heat of the day had passed and there was a breeze coming off the river. They walked almost to the bridge in silence.
Then Olive said, “Let me tell you a story. I don’t suppose you ever heard mention of Jimmy Doerfer. No reason why you should have. He lived with his mother a few miles the other side of Doylestown. Country people, Bucks residents for generations on both sides. Henrietta Doerfer was widowed when the boy was about six years old. An only child.
“The father, also named Jimmy, was known as a womanizer, which will give you an idea how long ago this happened. I can’t recall how long it’s been since I’ve heard that word spoken seriously. Well, everyone felt properly sorry for Henrietta, having to put up with this, but there’s no record that she ever voiced any objection. The point is that James Senior’s death was on the colorful side. A farmer up around Allentown caught James Senior in bed with his wife and used a shotgun on the pair of them before putting the barrel in his mouth and blowing his own head off in the bargain. All this to the immense delight of everybody within fifty miles, as it gave them something to talk about besides aren’t we going to get any rain this summer. I could tell you the farmer’s name except that it’s slipped my mind. Couldn’t be less important, actually.
“Now Jimmy Junior grew up into a carbon copy of his father. The same sort of hell raising, after everything in skirts, married or single made no difference to him, except that he went on living at home with his mother. And how she would carry on about him. All about how she wished he’d get married and settle down and leave off chasing other men’s wives before he wound up the same way his father did. And from what she said it was obvious she knew just what the boy did and where and with whom, and after you’d heard it all a few times, you got the feeling she was proud of the little rascal.
“She couldn’t have been more than thirty-five when the farmer’s shotgun made a widow out of her, but she never remarried. Her farm was a profitable one and she was a good enough looking woman, but if any man got interested, she didn